The Baker
The nether is not a place where you'd like your ghost to haunt. The blood-soaked hills were once green. The molten seas of fire were once blue. They even said you could see the sky, that the hills had not yet turned upon the Ka'tah, had not yet turned the world, that was once open, into an eternal entrapment. Crimson floors and crimson ceilings, that is all that is left of it. If this is your world you would take the first chance to leave it. That chance came. A broad man called a meeting of all demonkind. He had found a way to leave. But this man was not the first to claim he had the cure. The square was almost empty. The broad man was there, so was a man with stone armour. Another figure was cloaked. A last man sat in a corner. Pale white hair covered his face. The girl was also there. She was young and light haired. The pessimism that the world forced into its inhabitants had not yet clawed their way into her mind. Most would call her a fool, but the spark in her eyes was clearly there. She sensed something that had not been sensed in the underland for a long time. The broad man showed his slim crowd a large crate. It was filled with water. A rare substance. Highly valuable. The girl’s astonishment showed its rarity. The man poured all the water into the nearest lake. The girl screamed. But the water did not evaporate. Where the water touched the molten fire they intertwined. As a dance the fire and water mixed into a purple matter. The man with the stone armour walked down to the lake and smashed the strange stones. The stones did not put up a fight. After a while the man of stone had placed the rock into a frame-like structure. The cloaked man came forward and produced a flame. When the spark jumped to the frame it exploded into a mysterious light. It felt like the sun. The white-haired man laughed softly. He came out of his corner and faced the broad man. A sword was given to him. The white man went through the light, never to return. The cloaked man too stood by the broad man. He was given a small stick, and he too was gone. The man of stone did not glance at the broad man nor did he receive a gift, but he too was gone shortly after. The broad man spit on the floor, a clear sign of his disgust of this wretched hell home that was home to so many. The light from the gate shaped the figure of a crown on his head. The man-now-king stepped through. The girl had not moved a bit during this encounter of peculiar figures. She looked around. Most Ka’tah dismissed the doorway as a magic trick. There was no way out of the lower lands. They had destroyed their land and will pay for it in eternity. But the girl did not agree. Her rare hopeful mentality forced her feet to move towards the door. She stepped forward and through the light. This new world that the girl found herself in was overwhelming. Insides turned outsides. The new world that was found was quickly claimed for the Ka’tah. The other species in this world did not seem to mind them. Hæmiran even traded with them. The girl learned how to grow plants that called this new world home. She could even produce food with them. And although the girl tried to adjust to the new world, the others did not care. Green lands quickly turned yellow. The trees vanished. Life made way for death. Once again the broad man called for a meeting. This time all Ka’tah came. They had realised that this land too was cursed. Some sproposed to return to the underworld. These people vanished. Aggravated by the broad man, the Ka’tah picked up their arms and marched out of what was once green. After a long march they found themselves at the gates of Burgundys. The broad man called for them to open the gates but the locks remained locked. The battle that followed looked close at first. Some Ka’tah even thought they could win. Until the Scalians arrived. From far away they looked fair and beautiful on their flying lizards. But from up close their violet and golden eyes only showed death and destruction. The lake people of the sky. The fire that the Scalians brought was destructive, friend and foe died to its heat. The broad man kept standing through the flames while fighting a young woman. In time the broad man was restrained and dragged away from the battlefield. About a third of demonkind was still standing. Watching their leader being dragged away lowered their morale. The fire from the dragons removed it. Along with their lives. With empty eyes the demons saw the gates of Burgundys open. The famous cavalry of House Wagen was still intact. And they came in hard. The Ka’tah spread out. Fear overtaking courage. Selfishness overshadowing unity. The girl did not participate in the fight. She was holding her sword with sweaty palms while she hid behind a rock. When she saw the horses, she ran towards the sea. In the south she saw a giant column rise from the forest. The girl ran for hours before an earthquake hit the land. Once again she turned to the south and saw how dragons and giant birds lifted massive rocks into the sky. Two races vanished from this world this day. When she found a good tree to climb in to sleep she heard something behind her. It was the white-haired man she saw so many years ago. “Oh, I finally found someone I can trust.” He said. “We will take our revenge against the Hæmiran and Scalians. And when we do, we need to make sure it is led by the right people. I want you to have this.” He untied the blue ribbon that decorated his white top and marked her as a high officer in the demonic force. The girl, unsure about her survival, gladly accepted the gift. Next time she won’t be afraid to fight she told herself. The white-haired man returned to the shadows and the girl went to sleep. She woke to the feeling of a pointy end down her throat. Two men dressed with orange ornaments looked down upon her, smirking. “We finally found the last one huh.” A hard blow to her head sent her sleeping again. Her naïve mind blind to the trickery that has been forced on her. The second awakening was more peaceful, in a way. No weapon up her throat. Her hands and legs however, were decorated with ancient patterns. Movement was impossible. A guard started talking to her, but these Hæmiran words were unknown to the girl. She only understood bits of it. The man wore a hood covering his ears and eyes. His voice however seemed inhuman. Almost singing. He flawlessly switched to the demonic tongue. The girl, almost startled by surprise, looked back at him. He asked her about the demonic plans to take down Bræðyria. The girl however, did not know anything about these plans. Only the top of the military force would know something like this. “Kra’in” the man shouted. Some words left the girls throat but the man was not pleased. He left the cell. This process repeated itself for the next months. Every day the man returned to the cell, shouting only the word “Kra’in” and hitting her if she told him nothing. This was the only company she had and the only words she’d hear apart from her own mind. But she never answered. She never could answer. Nothing that would please the man. One time the man raised his hood. Dark golden eyes stared back at the girl. The expression was a mix of confusion and annoyance. A knife was produced. A girl was stabbed. During her last moments, the girl’s mind was calm. The man had a use for the girl, so he kept her alive, when he realised she was of no use he ended her life. He ended her misery and gave her peace. In some societies it would be considered a gift. But the medics did not agree with the methods. They rushed in and saved the girl’s life. And so, the girl was kept alive. But no men came to her cell to ask her questions. The guards of the prison said that no one has come into her cell to ask her questions. Her mind pondered if the man in her cell was real or not. But the girl lived once again. The compassion of the Hæmiran is what saved her. It was their biggest gift and their biggest flaw. A Scalian would have killed her instantly. A Sorieran would have killed her quickly and cleanly. A Gothanal would have used her. But the Hæmiran would keep her alive. Because they thought it was the right thing. It was not. The girl’s solitude made her lose her mind. She spent every moment plotting. How to escape, how to kill. At first she screamed the entire day. About the end of days for all Hæmiran. After a while she could control her mind. Keeping her urges to scream contained inside her mind. The guards rewarded her by letting her walk outside for 5 minutes per day. From the giant cage she could see what must be the White City. The prison must be a sight to behold. She spent many days like this. A moment in the light, an eternity in the dark. The girl slowly edged towards what the Ka’tah call “Raksum”. A mind without a voice. Meaning that the body has free reign over the mind. Solitude is dangerous for demons. Even more so for their surroundings. The white-haired man returned to the girl. His clothes were fine and expensive. “I have finally found you, my honourable general!” he uttered with dramatic hand gestures. “I have searched years for you, but this place is so well hidden.” A normal mind would have read the lie. An empty mind did not. “Venture to Omsenia and look out for them. We have done it. An island from Bræðyria has collapsed. The Scalians have returned to Morkuria. Bring me their blood.” The white-haired man stared at the girl and licked his lips. “It is time.” From his white cloak he produced a knife. The kind that is used to cut bread. The man walked to the door and kicked hit out its frame, seemingly without using any strength. He walked out of the hallway without looking back. The girl examined her knife and grasped its handle. They will pay. All of them. Friend or foe. Ally or Enemy. She has stopped caring. The optimism that once brought peace and joy to her mind had been pushed out by a cruel and hateful world. With determination, she left her cell. At the end of the hallway a guard stood. He must have been blind if he had not noticed the demon walking by earlier. But he did see this one. With a quick stride the guard closed the distance to the girl. She did not care. One smooth movement cut away all life. The knife gave the girl strength, a feeling of power. She walked around the corner. Two more guards wearing intricate blue designs. The thunder-wave crest on their shields. They drew their bows and shot. They missed. Three quick strides and one blow and the girl was past them. Leaving two guards on the floor. This continued for a while. Whenever a guard crossed her path her hatred fuelled her body. The guards were no match for her. When she reached the main door she saw the prison’s final defence. Ten guards, bows ready, swords ready, stood in front of it. They shouted some words but the girl heard none. She dodged the volley, or so she thought. The arrows almost seemed to pass through her. The experience was not painful for either side. The girl was unhurt, the guards left life instantly when the angry blade crossed their body. The girl opened the door. At the end of the garden that surrounded the prison stood a woman. This one too had violet eyes. Her teal and golden clothes were light, allowing for quick moment. The girl braced herself for another fight. One woman should not be a problem. She ran forward to the woman without success. The woman jumped to the side and vanished into the shadow. Confusion hit the girl. But she had not the mind to make sense of it. All her mind said was “Kr’ain” and “Trazk’an”. She set out towards the harbour. More blood must be spilled.